Bon Jovi's plan to avert meteor collisions.

My Sun Bon Jovi came in from skool, threw his skool bag into the scullary, gave me a look of competous contempt, like what First Minister Peter Robinson mite bestow on second banana, Martin McGuiness and said. "Please attend too what I say, are you aware of inter-galactic travel, pertaining too metors, ass-roids, big lumps of frozen rock and the bric-brack of dust, gas and global structures?" I didn't like the tone of the cub so I replied, "I wood say I am as aware to what you are refering two as any cunt'ry woman bringing up a cub on her own". Bon Jovi scrutzised me and said, "Cast your mind back and think hard, because this wool be ritten up as a report in my skool jotter later, are you aware of a near collision between earth and a grate big boulder a few weeks ago?" "I is" I said, "It was in the papers and in the news. Paul Clarke said we were lucky to get away without a dunt". Bon Jovi walked up and down the room with his hands behind his back, suddenly spun round on his hobnailed boots, pointed an accusing finger at me and yelled, "And pray tell why I was knot informed!" "Why wood you be informed?" I said "You are just a lump of a cub, what could you do?" Bon Jovi sighed and muttered, "A prophet has know honour in his birth place". Then the cub roared. "Are you trying too incinerate that I am a dope? You may be surprised to no, that I have been working on such an eventuality. My cyphering proves that if everyone in China jumps off a chair when Nolan comes on, the earth could be steered klear of any galetic "A word by the way that comes from-milk) disaster". I looked at the cub in wonder and amazement, standing there in short grey trousers, maroon skool blazer and both his socks hanging round his ankles. What a brane must be bubbling and gurgling,creaking and groaning in that gigantic head. The cub was a foe-nomim, the word that Ivan Little could knot say. "What's for brunch?" said Bon Jovi, with all the a plum of Noel Coward. "Buttermilk" I said "and as many buttered heels from pan loaves as you kan manage". "Thank-YOU!" said the cub, in the clipped tones of the aristrocsy and Mark Carruthers. As the son set in the West, Bon Jovi, broke wind with grate delicasy and said. "Sorry if I lost my temper earlier old dear, but if you do hear on any near galetic disasters in the future, do give me the heads up old bean-right-tay-hoe". I gazed out the half door at the gloaming and muttered, "What has sprung out of my lions? Why have I bean chosen to be the mother of, The Special One? As the cub broke wind again, I looked up at the sky and said, "A genie, that's what he is. know wan in Ireland, has got a cub like what I have"I went indoor, two turn down the bed-cloths and place the po's in a stratigue position. The cub may be-"Special" but his aim isn't too good in the dark.